


Ed's Self Defense Mechajism

by shipallthebooty



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Crack, Crack cocaine, Dubious Consent, Forced Orgasm, Hedonism, Humiliation, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omorashi, Piss kink, Rope Bondage, Sounding, Swearing, Watersports, forced urination, urethral Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-25 16:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20727188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipallthebooty/pseuds/shipallthebooty
Summary: "Edward remembers clearly the first time it happened. He was, as he usually is, called some variation of "short". In fact, as he recalls it, he was called so small he could fit in between the cracks of his newly attained automail. It was quite fucking rude, actually, although his brother insists that's not at all what he said."Crack!AU where instead of going on a rant every time someone implies Ed's small, he pisses himself in ecstasy.





	Ed's Self Defense Mechajism

**Author's Note:**

> I just would like to let everyone who's reading this know that I have many regrets in life. This fic is not one of them, but you should know I'm capable.
> 
> Unbeta'd, not given a final read through, and I used grammarly to spot errors, 90% of which were ignored entirely. Enjoy!

Edward remembers clearly the first time it happened. He was, as he usually is, called some variation of "short". In fact, as he recalls it, he was called so small he could fit in between the cracks of his newly attained automail. It was quite fucking rude, actually, although his brother insists that's not at all what he said.

Regardless of what they said, however, little did he know that what happened next was going to change his life forever.

Standing in the middle of town, just as he was opening his mouth to rant at them, his breath hitched and he felt heat coil in his abdomen. A familiar feeling tingled his bladder and he moaned loudly, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he released in his shorts. He cried out as onlookers turned their attention towards him and he reveled in the hotness of his bodily fluids as they traveled down his legs, leaving tracks of evaporating urine in between his thighs like cool kisses. 

By the end of it, the perpetrators had run far, far away. No one in his hometown of Risembool had ever called him small again, and newcomers learned very quickly.

Edward calls it his Self Defense Mechajism. Alphonse insists the pun isn't necessary, but whenever there's someone especially tall, masculine or deep-voiced, like velvet in his ears, his bladder isn't the only thing that releases when they make the misstep of insinuating that he's short. It works even better to ward them off from doing it again, unsurprisingly.

In his afterglows, he's down to the marrow of his bones with burning humiliation. For some horribly unknown reason, he can't help it, but it sure as hell works as a deterrent. He's glad it at least doesn't act on his family - Granny and Winry included.

Edward only knows it started happening after he saw the gate. They're connected, somehow. Not only did the Truth claim his arm and leg, but it also bestowed what religious folk would refer to as "a blessing and a curse".

Edward mostly deems it as a curse, aside from the moments he's within the throws of his own intense pleasure, where he thanks the universe for being able to experience such shameless ecstasy.

Stupidly, the first time he walks within the midst of Colonel Mustang and his team, he hadn't bothered to warn them. For some reason, he'd expected a room of military professionals to behave, well, professionally, and not peep a word at him aside from what was necessary. The stoic and quiet sort.

Of course, that was not the case. They were introducing themselves, being much friendlier than he had imagined. He cannot remember who it was, either Havoc or Falman, but like always, he couldn't stop it, and god, how could he stop from cumming in his pants in clear view of such an insanely attractive group of men? Their voices rang in his ear as if they were begging him to do it.

The Colonel, annoyingly, became privy to his unusual reaction when he was in Risembool, but never saw it for himself.

Ed suspects he thought it was a load of shit, going off of the shocked look etched into his features as Ed's piss flowed close against tanned skin, rushing over whole thighs as his tight leather pants kept his cum and urine tucked against himself. In the moment, the newly titled Fullmetal Alchemist took pleasure in seeing his face, his heavy blush, a mix of shock and morbid interest etched into his pretty features.

When you're in the middle of an orgasm, you just don't cerebrate right. If he could help it, he'd be off to the nearest bathroom, but... unfortunately, all he's mentally capable of doing is relishing in it. The Colonel watching him only made it better.

They had made fun of him for months, that is, until a second accident had occurred. Mustang had thought it would be funny to just say the first syllable of the word 'short'. Technically, it's not an entire name-call if you don't say the whole word, right? Unbeatable logic, right there, Ed thinks.

Idiot bastard.

"You know, Fullmetal, maybe you'd get your job done to a higher standard if you weren't so shhh..." The Colonel cut himself off at that point and snorted before continuing, "just kidding."

But it was too late, the damage was done. The intentions were clear, no matter how it was said. The implications are all that's needed.

The nonchalance in his eyes, the overconfident smirk on his face...Ed couldn't help himself as he rubbed his cock through his pants, crossing his legs as he immediately released all over his office couch. He bit his lip and cried through his teeth, falling onto his side as he curled in on himself.

Colonel Mustang had stared intently at him for a few long seconds before putting his face in his palms, and keeping them there until he finished. Ed left, and Mustang's team outside was silent as he walked out with his head down. He supposed he must have been loud. No more joking about his 'blessing' then, thank their non-existent God.

Nowadays, Ed knows what the Colonel's like. It wasn't an accident at all. The bastard was testing the rules, looking for loopholes. He's got it all figured out and abuses Ed's ailment as a source of entertainment.

Edward always get anxious going to return his mission reports, and Ed hasn't seen him in an especially long while, so the bastard is probably aching to bust a few...jokes. It's not really a defense mechanism when someone is capable of bypassing it whenever they please. He should have brought some water with him.

He greets the team, attempting to not sound sulky despite a few very specific jabs.

"What are you guys still doing here? It's late. Especially you, Havoc."

"Well, you see boss, we decided to stay behind and get ahead on some paperwork, like the good working men we are."

Ed doesn't believe it for a second, but the Lieutenant steps in before he can call it, "They are accounting papers overdue by several weeks."

Yes, that sounds more accurate.

"Fortunately, though," Breda jumps in, "we're almost finished, so we won't have to listen to the entirety of you and the Colonel's catfight-"

"Catfight?"

He steps forward but his shoulder is held firmly back, "You're also late, Edward, you had better go in."

He can only shoot a glare at them before sniffing and turning towards the door. He proceeds to walk to the entrance of the Colonel's office before kicking in the new wooden entrance as hard as he can before striding into the room. Slamming it shut behind him, he swiftly steps to laze down on the couch. It's crisp, he notes. Clean. Probably has been steam vacuumed since his last visit.

"Well, hello there, Fullmetal," The man puts down the paper, giving Ed a surprised look, "I didn't notice you. Did you crawl in under the space beneath my door?"

"AH- ah- ah, fuck, fuck god, yes, ah, mmph-"

"I was under the impression you didn't believe in God."

The man lifts himself from his seat, and Ed is too lost to track his oddly specific movements.

"Shut- hah - shut up, pompous, mmmh! Hah-hey, what are you-" Edward only manages to gather some of his wits when lights flash above him, and a soft thump on his head does alert him to the space above him. His eyes widen as he sees the ceiling has been chalked with a transmutation circle.

Suddenly, the man is behind the couch, leaning over to grasp his arms and tie his mismatched wrists to the ropes spindled from the ceiling. All he can do is moan at the treatment when the material is pulled tight against his skin, and he slumps down, upper body suspended from above.

His breathing is heavy, and the stream has ebbed off by the second he's able to glare at the Colonel, "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Get this shit off me! Every fucking time I have to deal with your bullshi-"

He's cut off by a cool glass being pressed against his lips, "That's no way to speak to your superiors, Fullmetal. Drink this." Ed spits at the fluid touching his lips for a moment before giving the man a confused look.

"Don't worry, Major, it's just water."

Edward shoots him another glare, but takes it into his mouth anyway. He's already overhydrated, but he needs to replace the fluids lost consistently. There have been more than a few times he's not had enough - he doesn't want to end up in the hospital yet again, being pumped full of intravenous fluid because he had paid no mind to replenish in between several arrogant backwater idiots.

"That's a good boy, Fullmetal."

The younger alchemist feels a palm on his bulge and he cringes when he realizes he's not soft. Mustang palms him hard, and he can't help but whine, "Cut it out! Get your paw off and untie me!"

"You're still hard." The Elric squirms, using his hips to retract from his hand, but the ropes are holding him in place and he groans in frustration when the touches become lighter, but ever persistent.

"Yeah, guess there's a point where your smarmy ass gets boring, huh? Let me out so I can clean the hell up. Do you want to make a fucking mess?"

The man is unbuckling his belt as Ed attempts to buck him away, "Or...maybe you're just persistent. God knows you are in every other aspect."

Ed's metal leg extends from its place against the seat to kick the man away and is satisfied when he tumbles on the floor with a grunt before attempting to get an idea of the knots he's been tied into. He tries to bring his arms close together but it's mere inches too far apart to get the contact he needs, "Shit, will you just let me go? Crazy bastard. You know I'll kick your ass for this, right?"

"Relax, Fullmetal." The man sighs before placing his hands to the ground, and Ed has not a second before his ankles are secured to the front of the couch. Ed shrinks indignantly as the Colonel approaches him yet again, in a much safer position.

"Can't do anything now, can you?"

In agonizingly slow movements, the man unzips his pants before taking a glove off and slipping his bare hand inside his underwear. It squelches and Ed's cock throbs with the noise. A moan escapes his lips and he hears a soft laugh from the man, "You're quite malleable like this, Fullmetal. I wonder why people don't take advantage more often."

Ed wants to say people don't want to deal with a horny teenager who's pissed themselves, generally, but then his hand squeezes his shaft before drawing upwards and out, and he groans in frustration. The man smirks upon seeing Ed's release present on his calloused fingers, and Ed wants to be sucked into a black hole.

"Well, it seems like you did cum after all...yet, you're still hard. What was that about being bored of me, again?"

The younger alchemist gapes as the man brings his soiled finger to his mouth, sucking around each of his fingers, his palm - Ed can see his tongue working around them, making sure to pick up every bit of it, and he almost cums for the second time in mere seconds.

"That's- that's gross, Mustang. Do you know what's on there?"

"You seem to be enjoying it entirely. Do you really suppose you're in a position to call me gross?"

The man leans closer, lips almost touching his, and fuck, he better not be planning to-

"Mmm," Edward whines into the Colonel's mouth, tasting himself on his tongue, and the heat in his belly is burning so hot he thinks he might cry. The man's appendage curls around his teeth, the walls of his cheeks, and he feels a deep loss when the Colonel retracts from his mouth.

His lips reach his ear instead, and the man's voice hits him in his core, "You shamelessly piss yourself in front of strangers, Fullmetal, and you enjoy it. Everyone can see you enjoy it-"

The hand is back and it glides easily over Ed, his phallus slick with piss and cum, and he keens into the air, "I- I can't help it, it's not my fault, I told you-"

He's still rambling when the man crawls onto Ed's lap, thick legs on either side of him. He moans lowly at the weight as he settles, wondering how strikingly muscled he must be under the uniform, "I swear if I could-"

The man shushes him, "I know, Major, I know."

The hand speeds up, the sound of his voice and the friction of wet skin against skin filling the air. The thumb swipes over his soft head, swirling inside his foreskin against his uncovered glans and pressing into the slit on the tip, and he's so close. He licks the pulse beneath his ear, biting ever so slightly. Ed thrusts into his grasp, seeking the stimulus, looking away from his face, bearing the skin under his jaw, as if it helps the embarrassment.

Mustang nuzzles into his neck, then, lifting his lips to his ears, "I wouldn't have thought someone your size would have a prick this large, shorty."

Edward screams, his cock pulsating with every ribbon of cum spurting from it. Mustang squeezes and strokes in time, and Ed thrusts, hips staggering, against the Colonel's rough fingers as piss drains from the pink hole of his cockhead. Ed feels a sharp pain above his shoulder and Ed whines at the incisors sinking into his skin.

"Yes, Roy, Roy, more, more-" Ed's erection causes the stream to go wayward, and he wails as it coats both of them, soaking Mustang's glove and leaving wet trails along the blue military uniform. He pinches the tip, rolling the soft, wet glans between his fingers. The man pauses to bring full lips to his ear, "Good boy. So good for me, so wet for me, aren't you?"

Ed sobs, thrusting his hips erratically, chasing his hedonistic pleasure, "Yes, I'm a good boy, please, please, don't stop, Mustang, don't stop, it feels so good, only for you, I'm good for you-"

There's slick squelching of the leather against a wet surface every time he rolls his pelvis, the urine soaking the pair as it wears off with each roll, tide-like in its final motions. Ed knocks his head to the side, removing Roy's wet mouth from his neck so he can capture his lips in his and he moans into the heat of his mouth.

His wrists are still bruised above him, so he has to rest against his shoulder as his head lolls, a telltale sting on his neck when the indents of Mustang's teeth are exposed to the cool air.

"I-I-mmph-" Ed tries to speak, but he's quickly cut off by plump lips over his own, and he whines petulantly. There's a deep groan in response before the weight pinning his lap is removed, and he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

"Colonel, please, what are you doing over there? I can't do it again, there's no way. You've had your fun, you old Bastard, come on, this is embarrassing."

"Not quite," he says, and Ed remembers he hasn't come yet. Not that he knows of, at least. Growling, Ed attempts to identify the object he fishes out of the desk drawer. It's silver, the body no thicker than a pencil and no longer than his hand. He retrieves out a glass jar, too, and this time Ed can identify the contents, biting his lips.

He smirks at him, stalking over with the items in his hold. He discards them momentarily before putting his fingers into the bands of his unzipped trousers and underwear, pulling them down to his ankles where they're tied against the foot of the couch.

He imagines, for a second, Mustang in his lap again, clothes off, bouncing up and down, his heavy weight slamming repeatedly on his thighs and tight muscle wrapped around milking his-

Ed chokes, having forgotten about his salivary glands secreting into his mouth at the thought. He shakes his head violently and the man chuckles, "There's no need to be embarrassed, Ed. You're cute like this, desperate and pissing yourself-"

A hand wraps around his chin, and Ed's self control is slim to none without his brother to keep him in check so he does nothing but meet him with just as much force when he kisses into him again, "-how does it feel, Fullmetal?"

"I- good, it feels good, you know how- you've seen it, you bastard. Do you just wanna hear me say it?"

"Yes." A simple answer, yet one that makes anger coil in his stomach, but a mouth is on his again before he can voice it. Instead, Ed makes noises both indignant and indulgent as teeth nip at his lips and a tongue paints the inside of his mouth.

The lid on the jar is removed with a pop, and slick fingers find their place once again on Ed's flaccid cock, paying special attention to the tip and stroking the hole with the pad of his thumb while he simultaneously yearns to evade the overstimulation and push into it.

He's carried away in it - his mouth, his skin, his warmth - and he doesn't notice when the slim piece of metal is picked up with an unoccupied hand and brought cold against the side of his teased-red head.

He breaks off with a gasp, and nervously regards the tool being prodded against his knob, "What is that? You're not going to..." Ed trails off, the purpose becoming clear to him as he tenses and retracts in tune with his realizations.

Skin touches his cheek and he realizes the panic in his eyes must be clear.

"I'll show you, first, if you like."

There have been thoughts rushing through his Ed this whole time, and now one of them is occupied by the vision of Roy slowly sliding a rod into his urethra. It makes Ed scrunch up his nose in empathy, but something about the Colonel fucking his pisshole is unusually intriguing to him.

"It's called a sound," the man explains.

"Okay," Ed's apprehensive, but when the man straightens up and brings his hands to unbuckle his military issue trousers, Ed finds himself focusing on the man's groin.

The pants lower, and his length is brought out mere inches from his face, close enough to lean forward and bring into his mouth, bulging red and soaked with precum. The scent mixes with already deeply raunchy air and Ed starts to grow restless again with the lingering proof of his own mess sticking to his most intimate places. A milky clear bead drips off the tip, and Ed only just notices the barely audible whimper at the sight. It's met with a deep chuckle, and Ed winces hearing the strain now evident in his voice.

It looks almost painful, the scarlet color and weeping state betraying what Roy's face hasn't. Full, round testicles hang below the base and Ed can only imagine the frustration. What he can't imagine is shoving something else inside it, blocking any possible release and almost definitely amplifying the discomfort tenfold.

The man lubricates the probe, swaying ever so slightly when he wets his tip, and Ed speaks before his mind can catch up, "You can't do that standing up, surely. Why don't you just sit down again?"

"What, you don't like the show, Fullmetal?" The man smirks down at him.

Ed would die staring at the view in front of him if he could, but the thought of the Colonel masturbating in between them, that heavy warmth on his lap again, takes a reaming priority.

He slides so the couch meets his back, making as much space as he can before shooting the man a pointed look. He earns a raised brow in response, but the man drops down, bringing his knees to either side of him again and grinding most definitely on purpose to make himself a comfortable spot.

"Is that better, Fullmetal?"

Ed won't admit it, but the persistent use of his professional title in their setting sends heat into his stomach and he grinds forward and sideways, adjusting beneath him before letting out a shaky breath, "Yeah."

A large hand envelope the both of them, and Ed keens briefly, feeling his cock against another man's arousal.

"Watch." He whispers, and Ed's already watching as he brings the metal to his tip, teasing the hole ever so slightly. He watches Roy's shaft twitch from the invasive stimulation, and he can't help but hold his breath with his as the man sinks it deep into his hole. There's a small groan, of pleasure or pain Ed's unsure, but the man massages his cock as it swallows the item, not quite jerking it, as if it's too soon, before releasing his breath with a quiet groan. Ed figures out why the metal loop is there as it fits around his mushroom tip, preventing the rod from becoming irretrievable. When it's all in, Roy takes the hand no longer guiding the wand and grips Ed's shoulder tightly.

"Does it hurt?" Ed asks attentively, disbelief in his mind at the thought of Roy taking any real pleasure in it. But when he lifts his head to look him in the eye, there's nothing but brain-dead lust in the way his lids droop, the red heavily dusting his cheeks, the way his jaw is unhinged every so slightly, lips in a perfect 'O', facilitating fluttering breaths.

"No, no, it doesn't," he breathes out again, "It's just intense," the man answers. His fist closes firmer around his erection, slowly dragging his hand up and down, and Ed marvels at the way his erection pulses around it.

As the man strokes himself, the metal pushes outwards, and he has to push it in, again, again, and again. His hips thrust towards it, and the palm of his hand holds it in while he fucks into his cock with the probe.

"Ah," he stops quickly, body tense, and wraps his fingers around the base of his reddening shaft.

Ed winces as the sight of it.

He takes his hand off his shoulder, putting a finger in the loop and pulling out. At its exit, a trail of precum spills out, dripping onto Ed's own hardness.

Roy lifts his chin up with a finger, gazes into his eyes, and he can tell he's about to say something, but Ed opens his mouth first.

"Do it."

Taking a deep breath, Ed tries to not be as tense when the metal slips against the head of his penis again. He breathes deeply and Roy leans in to whisper in his ear, "Good boy, keep breathing. You're going to do it for me one more time."

The metal is warm, this time, and it doesn't feel as foreign. The tip slips in, just barely, and Ed has to steel himself to keep still. He turns it inside him first, dipping in and out, in and out-

"Ah, ah, Roy," he doesn't know whether to tell him to stop or keep going, so he just keens into the air as his cockhole is slowly filled, warm metal breaching him in a place he'd never thought to violate. It doesn't drag, but slips against his walls. There's a sharp pleasure teetering on the edge of pain and when he feels the metal loop secure around his plum-colored tip, he lets out a sob.

A sudden tug on his cock is the consequence of his action, and the sob turns into a cry as the sound pushes out with the pressure, and sinks back in again when he relaxes his stomach.

"Good boy, Ed. So good…"

Praises are whispered into his ear as Roy takes his cock in his hand and starts jerking it around the metal. It pushes out with every movement, forcing gasps out of Ed's throat, and it's always pushed back in. It becomes a rhythm, and Ed doesn't stop the level of noise that breaks through as he's fucked deeply in his urethra.

"You're going to do it one more time, alright? Just once more, Ed, all over me."

Ed whines when the man speeds up, and he thrusts his hips to meet him, "Fuck, fuck, I can't, Roy, don't say it, don't you dare…"

The pressure inside his cock and balls is building up quickly, but the sound is large and nothing can come out, he'd be stuck, backed up, begging for release.

"Yes, you can. You can. Look how deep it is. It never goes this deep in me. I think you've swallowed it all. Do you want me to slow down?"

"No, no, please-"

"Good," a finger hooks on to the loop, and immediately after, Ed's getting fucked against the contractions. He's jerked upwards as it slams back in, and he screams. It speeds up, and Ed's voice raises until it can't anymore, as it's taken all the way out and shoved back in, over and over. It doesn't stop, and Ed can't tell it to stop, wants to chase it over the edge instead, with Roy fucking him where no one should be touched. It shoots straight into his nerves, electric and somehow too much and not enough. 

"Is this too much for you, Fullmetal? Are you not big enough for this? No, no, of course, you aren't, you little brat."

The metal is pulled out entirely from within his walls quickly, and with it, the waves of orgasm wash over Ed as he drains himself. He jerks with each movement, body contracting around itself with each spurt of piss and cum. It covers Roy's hard cock, soaking his through again, spilling over their legs, seeping into the couch beneath them.

"Fuck, please, put it back in, I want it inside me, please-"

The cries are forced from him when he periodically pushes in, halting the flow and causing Ed to push desperately around the obstruction before pulling it out again and letting the stream coat the both of them in his filth. 

Ed watches, his mind almost whiting out into stars as Roy grasps both of their cocks in his hand, and jerks the two of them together. The man's ass rubs against his thighs as he rolls his hips into it, and Ed has to throw his head back as his bladder keeps emptying, hot and wet, and his cock slides against the other's, desperate.

The time it takes to relieve himself is prolonged by the constant abuse to his hole, persisting relentlessly until he's empty, and Ed wishes for nothing more than his hands to be untied so he could touch him, for fuck's sakes. His urine pushes deliciously against the sound when it's in, and Roy slows his administrations as it downs to a mellow flow, letting his body get the entirety of the fluid out of him.

Ed's body becomes heavier by the moment, and when it's stopped completely, exhaustion fills his senses like lead almost instantly and he can hardly find it in himself to open his lids. He hardly notices when the man lifts himself off of him, and shivers when the coolness of the afterglow wracks down his spine.

He stays like that, for an amount of time he can't quite bother himself to gauge, in a plane of thoughtlessness and relaxation. When the bonds around his wrists and ankles are released, he simply collapses like a rag onto the couch. He moans softly when fingers massage into the indents and bruises the ropes left, but he can barely feel it.

Fading in and out of the present, there's a point where a soft jolt of cool liquid upon his scalp brings him back to the land of the living. He's no longer in the office, anymore, he's under a shower in the military washrooms. He takes in his surroundings before something is shoved in his face, and it takes a moment to discern the man holding a glass of water in front of him.

"Drink this, Ed."

It's pressed against his lips and tilted, and Ed didn't know before the moment the liquid touched his tongue, but his tongue is dry and his head feels hot and he's thirsty as all hell. Taking it in large gulps, he downs it in seconds. Noticing the water is cold, he starts to shiver before the man reaches up and turns it off.

"Do you feel alright?"

"Fine. I'm thirsty."

The man steps away, presumably to refill the glass, and Ed's keen awareness of what he's wearing grows by the second. He suddenly doesn't find the smell so attractive anymore, and he pulls off his garments one by one, chucking them into a pile around the drain.

Ed thinks there's nothing a little water and alchemy won't fix as he turns on the showerhead again, this time to a more lukewarm temperature, but wants nothing more than to get to his shoddy dorm, into some actually clean, comfortable clothes and pass the fuck out.

Footsteps approach and Ed peaks his face around the wall to see Mustang appear, fluid in tow.

"Here," Ed takes it from his hands a little aggressively this time before letting the cool fluid past his lips.

"I'm not cleaning up your couch."

"The janitor is going to complain again."

"Sounds like a you problem. Just couldn't help yourself, could you, Colonel Shit? You know, the Lieutenant is about what's left of your impulse control, right?"

"Oh yes, Fullmetal, I'm very aware."

Ed dips into the water, letting it wash away the sticky filth from his body.

"There's a towel outside. It's late. I'll give you a ride to your dorm."

"It's a brief walk away, I think I can manage." A familiar bite of sarcasm is in his tone when Ed turns to look at him, apprehensive.

"You know, if you wanna do that again, we should probably do it somewhere more convenient."

He smirks at him, "Oh, and what do you suggest?"

"Your kitchen, maybe?"

"A bit unsanitary, don't you think?"

"I was thinking I could just eat there first, and then have a nice bath, afterward."

"I believe I can work around that."

They both stand there, briefly, before Ed speaks up, "You should leave. I'd actually like to get into bed within the next hour and fall asleep before twelve so I don't feel sick when you make me haul ass in the morning for a goose chase mission…"

"Of course, Fullmetal."

Ed actually believes for several seconds that the man is going to let him get away with that, until he calls out a goodbye in the doorway.

"See you later, Shorty!"

**Author's Note:**

> We need more omo in this fandom.


End file.
